Torisa braced both hands against the ground, panting incessantly. As yellow smoke kept rising from his body, his body was melting too.
But what dripped down was neither a waxy substance like corpse grease nor foul-smelling pus, but thin streams of yellow sand.
They kept "dripping" from Torisa's eyes, ears, mouth, and the rest of his skin, like a broken hourglass.
Before long, a small mound of sand had accumulated beneath where Torisa lay.
Everything he had, his past, his cultivation level, his pride-all of it was like sand clenched tightly between his fingers, slipping away beyond his control, leaving him nothing but merciless mockery.
"Heh... ha ha... heh..."
Torisa laughed, his laughter filled with despair and regret.
Kallen believed his regret at this moment was probably genuine, because even the most selfish person, once he had lost absolutely everything, could only cling to regret.
Many people saw regret as an expression of pain, but in Kallen's eyes, regret was actually a way to relieve pressure.
Someone in Neo's situation habitually kept himself wound tight, so tight that problems were more likely to arise.
If he invited Kallen or his other teammates out for drinks every few days, drinking and crying with tears and snot streaming down his face, he would actually be more likely to be fine.
So sometimes, being too strong was not a good thing. When the collapse really came, there would be no warning-it would simply crumble with a crash before your eyes.
At this thought, Kallen could not help glancing at Neo again.
Neo had gone down and deliberately provoked Torisa because he wanted a beating. He wanted someone clearly stronger than himself to beat him up, giving him a clearer goal to pursue.
Ah, what an exhausting way to live.
That inward sigh was